Home Coming
by SuaveSwayze
Summary: Two years after The Outsiders takes place, disaster strikes the Curtis household and the gang once more. Sodapop is drafted to war soon after his eighteenth birthday. Now, four years after the story takes place, Soda has finally returned. The entire gang now has to try to help Sodapop battle the living nightmares of war in order to return to his old self. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter 1

_**Note From the Author: Hello! Some might be familiar with a fan fiction I had awhile back, Open Fire. I just wasn't feeling it, and I'm sorry. The story just wasn't clicking and I really thought it started to suck. So, I came up with this. Same plot of Sodapop being drafted, but I took it by a different approach. I hope everyone enjoys it! Reads, reviews, follows and favorites are very welcomed!**_

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. **

—

"I don't see him, Dar!" Standing on my toes, my eyes scanned the crowded bus station anxiously. "Are you sure this is the right place? What if we got the times mixed up? Darry, I just don't see him!" There were uniforms everywhere, but none of them seemed to belong to our solider. Just when I felt like I was going to explode, heavy hands clamped my shoulders and brought me back down to safer grounds.

Everyone was hear, and the anxiety was enough to choke the entire room. Steve was scanning the room in a fashion very similar to mine. No one bothered to try to keep him sane though, that would only result in a fight. Two-Bit, however, had tried his best to act the very same since then. Today, I do have to give him credit for, he sobered up and looking around the bus station with caution. Everyone once in a while, one of us would point to some guy and ask if that could be him. So far, no such luck.

Darry talked to me in a low and slow voice, much like he would to a child. "Ponyboy, it's alright. He's here. Just give him a minute, alright?" My head bobbed up and down idly, still reaching up on my toes to get a better view. After two long years, everyone would be back together. Suddenly, it was feeling like it was just yesterday when everything flipped around.

_"Mail call, Curtis'!" Two-Bit's voice rang through our house, screen door slamming after him. It was Saturday, so everyone was lazing around. Two was the last one to join the party, and of course he had scrounged around in our mail first. He sauntered in, passing by my spot on the couch while flipping through the envelopes. _

_"Looks like we've got... Bills, for a Mr. Darrel S. Curtis. More bills, junk mail, junk, car magazine, and... Something for you, Soda." Two-Bit held up the envelope, cocking his head to the side. The letter was tucked away in a pristine white envelope, crinkled slightly by Two-Bit's grip as he held it out. _

_Soda had bound up at this point, snatching the letter up. He hadn't so much as glanced at it, yet his face had already lit up. "It's probably another letter from Fel." He said, unable to hide away his small smirk. Felicia was Sodapop current girl. She was away on vacation and the two "lovebirds" were constantly writing each other. I didn't mind Felicia too much, she was only a year older than me and managed to make Soda even crazier than usual. _

_Tossing the letter down without worry, Soda gave his shoulders a shrug. "Lemme see that car magazine, Two." He said, reaching out to grab it. _

_"Hey, Soda... This doesn't look like any of her letters..." Steve's voice sounded strange, and he had the letter scooped up in his hand. Studying it, he only raised his gaze up to get to Soda. He looked pretty serious and I swear I felt my stomach drop. There was no way that was good news. _

_"What, Steve?" Soda asked, obviously uninterested. He didn't even glance up, too busy pawing through the magazine. Soon a hand yanked it from his grasp, tossed aside as Steve threw him a sharp look. _

_"Sodapop, I mean it. Open up the damn letter, would you?" His tone was serious and obviously not going to budge, letting my brother know he wasn't going to let up until the letter was open and read. He shoved the letter back towards my brother impatiently. Soda uttered a small groan, but took it anyway. _

_"You're over reacting Steve." He muttered under his breath, peeling up the flaps of the envelope neatly. Soda reached inside, fishing out the letter and lazily unfolding it. Clearing his throat like a news castor would, Soda straightened himself up and shot me a grin. I didn't return it back to him. _

_"Greeting: You are hereby orders for induction in the Armed Forces of the United States..." His voice grew quiet, grin slipping away. The color was completely drained away from my brother's face as his eyes scanned up and down the rest of the paper. Slowly, he shook his head back and forth repeatedly. _

_"Darry!" He finally yelled, looking up and over his shoulder. "Darry, come here!" I had never heard Sodapop sound so distressed before, but I couldn't even find it in myself to get up and comfort him. I was numb myself and it felt like I was watching this from someone else's point of view. There was no way this was happening. Soda had just turned eighteen two months ago, he couldn't have gotten drafted._

A steady squeeze on my shoulder's cleared out my thoughts, causing me to look back at Darry. He offered me a small, tight smile in return. I know he didn't want me to be this worried, but it had been a hard last two years for everyone. And now we were promised to pull back together again, after his arrival.

"Hey, is that him?" Two-Bit's voice broke the silence that had fallen between all of us, pointing to a cluster of uniformed men. I squinted myself, searching to see all of their faces. My stomach flipped when I saw a familiarly handsome face. There was plenty things different about him: the haunted look, his golden hair buzzed, and the layer of lean muscle that were an addition to him. But underneath that all, I saw Soda.

"Yeah, there he is." Darry confirmed with a nod, squeezing me again before dropping his grip. "You guys stay here, I'm just going to go get him. And guys, remember what I said, alright? Things haven't been easy for him." Reminding us all in a soft voice, we all nodded our heads in sync. Darry had let us know thousands of times exactly how we're supposed to handle Soda's arrive. The first rule was no yelling whatsoever. I know Two-Bit heard that one more than the rest of us. Looking at him now, I knew no one had to worry.

We all watched as Darry mad his way through the crowded station, starting towards the group. I kept Soda in my vision at all times, searching for every last change in him. The first things were obvious. He wasn't smiling, and he wasn't talking. In fact, he was stone still up until Darry reached him. Then, there was a small flicker in him as he wrapped his arms around my brother. My gaze feel to the floor as Darry brought him back to us.

Steve was the first one out of any of us to approach Soda. I guess Two-bit was as apprehensive as I was. My eyes fluttered upwards, watching as Soda and Steve locked arms together tightly. Soda has his eyes squeezed shut and was muttering things into Steve's ear. Whatever it was, I couldn't hear, but it seemed to push Steve over to the edge. That was the first, and probably last time, I'd ever seem a tear slip loose from Steve Randle. Finally letting my brother go, he put on a small smile and swatted the pearly bead away.

Two-Bit was next, casting a goofy grin, which Sodapop returned with a ghostly smile, and reached his arm out for his own hug. "Welcome home, kid." I could hear Two, voice cracking just the slightest bit. This caused Soda to smile a bit more prominently, but not how his usual smile was.

"What, no jokes?"

"I used up all my good material on those goofs." Two-Bit smiled, letting go of Soda and giving his a light pat on the back. I could tell Sodapop was still tense, but he was honestly trying. No one could blame him though, he was just back in the country for god sakes.

Next was my turn to welcome him home. Swallowing thickly, I looked from Darry, to Steve, to Two-Bit, then finally at Soda. Everyone but him looked a little wet eyed. I was nervous that I was going to break down and I just wasn't ready for that again. But before I could hesitate anymore, Soda grabbed my forearm and hauled me in.

"I got every single letter your wrote, Pone." He mumbled, almost crushing my back as he squeezed me even harder than he had been before. "I just couldn't always write back." Now, I could hear him sniffling. This had been his breaking point and mine wasn't too far behind. Before long, we were both hugging each other and letting the tears fall mercilessly down our cheeks.

Soda was the once to finally free me. Casting that ghost-like smile, he rubbed at his red rimmed eyes. Looking at everyone, his eyes scanned the station before he shuffled around a bit in his spot.

"Darry, can we go?" He asked softly, his eyes were now holding an aspect close to begging. "It's so crowded." He murmured under his breath, sucking in a tight breath and tensing up even more than he already was.

Darry nodded his head quickly, taking my shoulder again. "Yeah. Yeah, sure, Pepsi." He said, taking the lone duffel bag Soda had carried away from him and swung it on his shoulder. I gave the station one last look before being guided outside. Rubbing my eyes again, I felt a small smile tug at the corner of my lips as Darry spoke again. "Let's get you home, little buddy."

—

_**Note From the Author: Let me know what you all think! Friendly criticism is definitely smiled upon here. I know this is kind of "been there, done that", but I like the idea. If anyone has suggestions on how to keep this original or if it's becoming too stereotypical, be sure to tell me. Thanks for reading, regardless.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A Note From the Author: Hey! So, I will admit, I had a little trouble writing this chapter. I went through, like, thirty different ideas and finally ended up with this one. It's really just a filler chapter, just kicking things off. I'm a little half and half with it, so you'll have to let me know what you think! As always, reads, reviews, etc. are happily welcomed. **_

_Disclaimer:_ S._ E. Hinton owns The Outsiders._

_—_

"Welcome home, Soda!" As we all ducked through the doorway, everyone was greeted with a chorus of welcome homes. Evie and Felicia had insisted on doing _something_ to celebrate Soda's arrival. A simple banner and cake was the only thing Darry hesitantly agreed to. Even then, he just had to give Soda the heads up on the drive home from the bus station.

Unable to stand it any longer, Felicia wriggled in her spot. I've got to give the girl credit, she stuck with Soda ever since he had been deployed. Even though she could be even more over the top than Evie at times, she dug okay. As soon as she saw a clear path to Soda, she ran up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

I had to hide my laughter away from Sodapop's reaction. After all our reserved greetings, I don't think he was expecting someone to be so forward and openly excited to greet him. Slow to react to the hug, he patted her back in a dazed reaction before snapping into it. Even then, he gave her a simple and distracted kiss.

"I missed you so much, baby!" Fel cooed, letting him go before planting a kiss on his cheek. Her confidence seemed to slip away a little as she received that ghostly smile. Glancing over her shoulder, she bit her lip and let her eyes sweep over the guys for their silent input. Two-Bit merely shrug his shoulders while Steve detached himself from Evie's grip long enough to grab hold of Felicia.

"I... I really missed you too." Soda finally stammered out, though I didn't miss the small sigh of clear relief he gave as Steve pulled her away. I know he cares about her, but I think such a rush of emotions had him even more scared than he already was.

After a beat of silence, Two-Bit thankfully decided to save everyone from the awkwardness, clasping his hands together in a way than made Soda flinch. "Alrighty, I heard there was cake. And I don't know about you, Sodiepop, but I could go for some." At that, my brother gave a laugh. Well, if that's what you could even call it. But I guess it was still more progress than we had before. Darry must have noticed it too, because he took the chance to keep the mood light.

"Good idea, Two. Let me go grab it from the ice box." With that, he ducked into the kitchen to go rummage around the fridge. Everyone else, except for Soda of course, relaxed themselves a little. He was just so tense, so it didn't come as surprise to any us. Then, we all just seemed to try to resume things as normal. Evie kept herself wrapped around Steve and snuck small kisses when she could, Two-Bit grabbed a beer before coming back into the living room. Everyone was trying, except for Soda, Felicia and I. We just didn't seem to know where to fit ourselves in.

It seemed to take forever for Darry to cut that stupid cake. The three of us just stood to the side awkwardly, unsure of what to do with ourselves. After around ten minutes of it, Felicia quit trying and grabbed Evie. They left shortly after, leaving just Sodapop and me. I think he was still a little shocked over everything, his colored hadn't completely returned yet and he was sticking to the wall like it was his last life-preserver.

"You okay, Soda?" I finally asked him. Maybe a conversation alone with my brother would prove to put a little comfort in me. He couldn't have changed completely. I mean, he's in there somewhere. Of course, all I got was a nod from him, only helping to feed my doubts. Taking a deep breath, I tried again.

"Darry's really been going out of his mind. Glory, Sodapop, I think it's the first time I've seen Superman a little flustered." Forcing a grin on my face, I even managed a small laugh. Unfortunately enough for me, Soda seemed to completely shut himself out at that point. He shuffled again, pushing off of the wall.

"I'm real tired. I think I'm going to take a nap." He announced quietly, the statement not exactly geared towards me. I nodded my head anyway, willing the smile not to slip and just stay in place until he left. Soon, after I mumbled a lame understanding, he wasted no time in heading off to our room. Maybe there really wasn't anything I could do. Whatever attempts I make were just shut out, unintentionally or not.

* * *

Since Soda had left the party, and none of us saw him returning soon, things died down. Before anyone knew it, the clock was just reading nine thirty. Two-Bit left reluctantly, apologizing a million more times and promising he'd be back tomorrow morning. Darry just simply waved his arm in dismissal, telling Two that he wasn't going to miss anything special. Boy, Darry was right. Today was nothing like anyone thought it would be.

No matter how many times we assured Steve he was alright to go home, he refused to budge. In the end, Darry and I both gave up and told him to make himself comfortable on the couch. In the last couple of years, I really started to see the good guy in Steve. I guess neither of us figured that would only happen because Soda ran out of luck and got his letter.

"Pony, I'm going to head off to bed. You should probably do the same, kiddo. It's been a big day for everyone." Darry had appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, I could feel his eyes watching me as I scrubbed away the last of the plates. "Maybe you should go in Soda's old room tonight?" He started to make the not-so-subtle suggestion slowly. "He's already made himself comfortable in your room, and I wouldn't want you to wake him up..."

"I ain't stupid, Dar. I know what you're saying." Shutting the water off, I crossed my arms and turned to face my brother. "Sodapop isn't some deadly weapon. He's not going to hurt me. Besides, I'm eighteen years old. I think I can handle myself, Darry." I really wasn't trying to be difficult. All I really wanted was Darry to trust both me and Soda. It was a fat chance, though. I've worked to gain his trust since I was fourteen now, and I was still the same person I've always been.

Darry exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was trying not to lose his patients with me. "Ponyboy, I know you're not a kid anymore, I just wish you'd consider it. Let him adjust for a day or two." I gave my head a stubborn shake, refusing to cave into treating own brother like a loaded gun.

"Good night, Dar." Brushing past him, I put the conversation to a curt end. Standing around any longer would have probably resulted in an argument anyway. Thankfully he didn't say anything or attempt to stop me, I think he was way too worn out to even try. Besides, Darry was right, today had been pretty long for everyone.

Upon reaching my door, I felt a little hypocritical to admit my apprehension of going in there. What if Soda was still awake? Neither of us knew what to say each other. Rolling my eyes at myself, I finally just pulled the door open and slipped inside silently. Luckily enough, Soda seemed to be passed out.

It was amazing, being able to see how different he looked like when he was asleep. His face was fuller and peaceful. That was probably the closest to Sodapop I've seen him all day. He must have been pretty deep into his sleep, every now and again his face would contort into a different expression and he'd toss around. Vaguely, I wondered if I even wanted to know what he was dreaming about.

I wouldn't have to wonder for too long. Not even three hours went by before I jolted awake from my sleep. The familiar sound of screaming filled our room, and I clamped my hand over my mouth to subside it. I couldn't even recall having a nightmare, though. That was the stange part.

It took a minute to process, through my sleepy haze, that the screaming was still continuing despite my hand clapping my mouth shut. That's when I realized it wasn't me who was screaming, but Soda. Suddenly, I was the one shaking and comforting him; letting him know it was all just a dream and he was safe. That was when realized for the first time how backwards everything really was.

—

**_A Note From the Author: Thanks for bearing through that! It was lame, I know. R&R, there's more to come for sure._**


	3. Chapter 3

_**A Note From the Author:**_ _**Hi, again! I'd just like to say thank you for anyone who's read and/or reviewed this story. All the insight has really helped! The story updates will probably come once a week on Saturdays, like it's been so far. Again, I'd like to say thanks! I hadn't expected this story to receive as much attention as it has and it means a lot to me.**_

—

The following morning was quiet. It was the same kind of silence that had plagued our house several times before. This time, it didn't seem right at all. The before this, every other moment made sense; the week Mom and Dad died, then Johnny and Dal, and the day Soda left us. Today had no reason for the heavy silence. Soda was home, and physically in one piece. So, why was everyone acting like we had another funeral to attend?

No one looked like they got much sleep, which might be contributing to that reason. Once Soda was calmed down enough, last night, I tried to get him to tell me what the nightmare was about. In the end, he refused to budge even the slightest bit. Yet, when I was fourteen, he was the one who swore talking about it always helped. Guess that rule doesn't apply when the roles are switched.

After the coffee ran out, everyone seemed to have a little more energy. At least we were all talking. There still wasn't any sign of Two-Bit, but I wasn't too surprised. Intuition had me figuring that he was nursing a hangover. No one was exactly perky, but it was better than nothing.

"I've got to go up to the DX before noon." Steve murmured, depositing his mug into the sink. I never knew him for a coffee drinker, but from the dark circles under his eyes, I was betting he was running on empty.

There was a small flicker in Soda's eyes, something I couldn't quite read. "Maybe I'll go too." He spoke softly, almost as if he was weighing his words. The unsteady plan seemed to fuel Steve, though. He smiled airily, patting Soda's shoulder lightly.

"You know, your place hasn't ever been filled, Soda..." He added in an undertone, receiving a dark look from Darry. I know Dar is just looking out for Sodapop, but I think Steve was right to put out the unspoken offer. That way, things could go back to normal quickly, and I wouldn't have to be so worried all the time. Maybe it was selfish, but that's all I could wish for.

Sodapop looked up, having been leaning on the table and studying the wood patterns for the last twenty minutes or so. Glancing over at Darry, I watched as he cocked his head to the side a bit. What was he looking for? Approval? Watching both of my brothers, I tried to figure out when this began. For the few months before he was drafted, Sodapop relished in being an adult. No more taking orders.

Darry gave his shoulders the smallest of shrugs, seemingly only noticed by me and Soda. I rolled my eyes, not liking the new sense of dependency between the two. Soda couldn't even tell me about his nightmares, much less take advice from me. Besides, I thought going off to war might make him even more independent. Maybe he was just taking this slow and being careful, now that he was home.

"Yeah, I'll think about it." Soda finally said, nodding his head and flashing that ghostly grin. "So, it was just you up there?" Smile slipping away, Soda straightened himself up and glanced over his shoulder at Steve. It was the oddest thing, watching a hint of his old self flicker in that smile, but then fade away into such seriousness. It could happen in a matter of seconds.

"Mhm, but I did alright. Sometimes I had a little help from the ol' boss." Steve shrugged his shoulders simply, casting Soda a look that allowed him not to worry. "We can go down now, if you want. There's a car I've been working on for a while. 1957 Ranchero. Nothing fancy, but maybe you could take a look."

This time, Soda seemed to ponder this all on his own. After a very slow deliberation, that shadow smile crossed his features. Steve got the message right away, grin spreading over his own face. It was just the little things that started to make us happy. After all, the little things let us know that some things never change.

"Hey, Pony," Soda started, rubbing the back of his head, "you wanna come with us?" The question made me smile, shaking my head despite it. I wasn't some tag-along kid anymore, even if Steve and I got along pretty okay. Besides, maybe some time at the DX, doing what he does best, will help. And I just might be able to snoop around a bit.

* * *

For ten minutes, I sat in our room, just staring up at the ceiling. Ten minutes gave me the time to make sure Steve and Soda were really gone, and Darry left for work. Without Two-Bit around, I was all alone. And that was perfect, for once.

Slowly, I picked myself off of the bed. Sodapop's duffel was a few feet away, untouched and inviting. Taking a paranoid glance behind my shoulder, I tugged the handle and dragged it over to me. It was a simple bag. Our father got it for Darry his junior year. It was meant to carry his football equipment. Now, it held all of Soda's memories of the last two years.

I was a little intimidated, to say the least, slipping the zipper down to get it opened. Though, I really didn't know what I thought the bag could contain. I'm not Paul Newman, and this isn't a detective movie. Lifting the flap, I held my breath and hesitated to look into the unknown.

There wasn't much in there, seeing as the bag itself wasn't too big. Sifting through the contents, I began to pull things out. It was hard to believe that this bag lasted two years with him, and still there was so little in it. After piling the clothes up, I finally got to the good stuff.

At the bottom of the bag, there was a random assortment of objects. Letters were among them; rubber banded neatly in a stack. I could see my messy scrawling on the top envelope and the little stamp in the corner. The fact that he kept everything we all wrote him made a smile tug at my lips. Pushing the letter aside, I peered further into the bag.

Something silver caught my eye as I reached my hand down to fish it out. The moment I clasped my fingers around it, I knew they were his dog tags. I don't know why, but an amazing burst of emotion courses through me. For the first time since a Soda's been home, I felt a strong pang of understanding. Opening my fist up, I examined the little pieces of metal.

"Sodapop P. Curtis." Reading it aloud, I traced my fingers along the raised letters. And though I had no place to do it, I quickly tucked away the chains into my pocket. It just made me feel a whole lot better and way more patient. Besides, it looked like Soda had no interest in ever going through that bag again.

Having it lay heavy in my pocket was too much. After just a few minutes, I held it out again, holding it against my palm. I don't know how long I sat there staring at the pieces of metal, but it was long enough. So lost in thought, I missed the door slamming shut and the voices that carried through the house. Soda's belongings were still scattered all over our floor, and I was still marveling at what memories this little necklace could hold. Certainly it wasn't anything that was wanted to be remembered.

"Ponyboy, what are you doing?" The voice pulled me out of the trace, neck snapping over to see the doorway. Oh god, no. I was caught red handed and there was no denying what I was doing. Swallowing, I looked away from Soda's face and began to shove things back into the duffel.

"Nothing, I just..." Trailing off, I looked up at him helplessly. There was no story I could come up with that would save me. I watched as his dark, clouded over eyes swept the objects on the objects. An unreadable expression flashed across his face, but it was soon masked away. After a moment, he went and sat beside me.

"They didn't call me Sodapop." He shared, taking the tags from my hands and dangling the chain. "My unit captain actually laughed when he heard it was my real name. Everyone called me Patrick instead." I was a little surprised, to say the least. This was definitely not what I was expecting. Soda I opening up, actually telling be about how it was over there, amazed me.

When I stayed silent, he flashed that new smile of his. "I like Sodapop better." he murmured quietly before standing up to his feet. Before he left the room, he dropped the necklace into my lap wordlessly. My eyes fluttered down to the chain, listening to his foot steps as he left. Slowly, a smile tugged at my lips. He would always be Sodapop, and nothing else. The conversation wasn't much, but it was all I was looking for.

—

_**A Note From the Author: Okay, so I'm not too sure about this one either. I don't know. R&R's are always welcome. Your feedback means a lot to me! Those of you that left reviews last chapter, I'm sorry I never got back to you. It's been a crazy week! Thanks for reading and excuse this chapter. **_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A Note From The Author:**__** Hey guys! I'm so, so sorry about the long wait. For as short as this chapter is, I really have no excuse for why it took so long. I just struggled to make it say what I wanted it to. I'm still sort of iffy, but I really wanted a chapter that sort of explained the "new norm" a bit. **_

_**On another note, I'd like to thank everyone for all the reads/reviews/follows and such! I really appreciate it and all your reviews means so much to me. Seriously, you all rock! Thanks again, everyone. **_

_Disclaimer:__ S. E. Hinton owns The Outsiders and all of its lovely characters. I'm merely borrowing them. __  
_

—

In the time that Soda had been home, nothing much went on. It felt like we were all anticipating some giant change. Like, we just expected to go to bed one night and everything return to normal. When nothing even remotely close to that happened, we all got tired and deflated.

When it hit the two-week mark, I was starting to think this would be the new normal. I know we were all being impatient, but absolutely nothing was changing. Sodapop seemed to be stuck. He hadn't said much of anything since he gave me his tags. Everyone was still trying to be the one to give him the push, the shove to send him back. But, nothing was working.

Nights were what everyone started dreading. Soda's bad dreams continued to occur every time he went to sleep at night. He still didn't budge, not even the slightest hint on what they were about. They were getting progressively worse, too. Sometimes he'd wake up drenched in sweat, shouting with a terrified look in his eyes. On those nights, he wouldn't know where he was and rarely anything could calm him down.

It was getting to the point where Darry would make me sleep in Soda's old room sometimes. He'd wake up in such a daze, he wouldn't even recognize us for a few minutes. It made Darry nervous, and he left no room for further arguments. He told me he was thinking about contacting the doctor I saw when I had nightmares. Maybe there was a pill to give him or something. But for now, Darry tried to let it be for the most part. There wasn't much to do about it anyway. They'd probably just say the same thing anyway; just make sure he wears himself out before bed. Because that was real helpful in the first place.

Since he didn't get a whole lot of sleep at night, Soda didn't leave the house too often. He'd nap when he could or just sit around. Darry had made the tv mostly off-limits, same with the newspaper. Mainly, there was just coverage on the war, stuff he didn't want Soda to catch wind of. I thought that was a little much, but maybe Darry knew what he was doing.

Soda wasn't even talking to us all that much, even though he was almost always home. He'd at least write to us while he was overseas. Now, it's one worded responses. His movements are lethargic and makes talking to us seem like such a task. It definitely wasn't the same Sodapop who left us. And it sure as hell ain't even the one who let me wear his tags tucked under my shirt.

There were a few times someone managed to get Sodapop up and out of the house. He went to one of my track meets the first week he was home. That, of course, only wended up in a minor disaster. The crowd was too much for him, setting him on edge and he had a slight panic attack. Darry ended up taking him home while Two-Bit and Steve waited until I finished up. It was a bust race anyway, I placed fifth.

I never put too much thought into why Soda decided to stay home now. I just figured that he was too tired or all the loud noises and crowds got to him. There was a whole other story to it, though. Of course Soda never planned on explaining it to anyone, being a man of so few words now. Darry and I didn't even find out I until Steve brought it up. And even that wasn't intentional.

We were all just sitting around, watching a bit of tv since Sodapop had gone on to bed already. If was one of those news coverages on all these college protesters against the war. They were apart of that political group, the Doves or whatever. Basically, we were watching a bunch of college-aged hippies up on-screen berating anyone who had anything to do with the war. Darry cursed under his breath, about to get up and change the channel when Steve spoke up.

"I can't believe the kinds of things these little punks can get away with saying. They're at the DX all the time now. A bunch of rich little hippies trying to get back at mommy and daddy by 'sticking it to the man'." His dark eyes rolled, Two-Bit giving his head a nod in agreement and muttering something about their clothes. But Darry and I didn't pay too much attention to the comment, more focused on what Steve said.

"The DX? Why?" Darry asked, sitting back down in his recliner while raising an eyebrow up at Steve.

"News got around that Soda's home... Didn't he tell you about it?" Clearly surprised when Darry and I both shook our heads back and forth, he looked for Two-Bit for a little bit of help. Usually, we couldn't get him to shut up anyway. And it seemed he some about this too.

Two cleared his throat, sitting up a bit. His usual smiling face was more on the serious side as he shifted uneasily. "It wasn't anything important, Dar. They just said shit." When Darry stayed silent, looking for more information, Two-Bit frowned slightly and continued. "We got rid of them, and Soda went home right after."

"Yeah, the little shit-faces just keep stopping by, though. It's all talk, Dar. But it sure well hell bothered Sodapop a lot." Steve gave his head a shake, glancing down the hallway that lead to our room. That made a lot of things make sense, though. That was why Soda didn't like leaving the house, and maybe it contributes to his dislike of crowds. Hell, I don't blame him. No one likes being heckled, especially over something he was powerless against.

Darry's jaw clenched tightly, obviously unhappy with this new story. "And Soda never once said a word to us about this?" He looked towards me, eyes searching to see if this was news to me or not. I gave my head a small shake in return. Nope, he definitely didn't mention this to me.

"I think it's 'cause he believe them, Darry." Steve spoke up again, his voice low and serious. I thought Steve was right, it all made sense. Soda didn't want anything to do with the war in the first place. And now these kids were making him believe he was some kind of monster for something he didn't even choose.

—

_**A Note From the Author: Okay, so you'll have to tell me what you think. I don't know, honestly. This chapter was pretty laid back, I think. Eh, I felt as it ended awkwardly, but I couldn't seem to get the wording right. Anyway, thanks for the reads/reviews/follows/favorites. Criticism is more than welcome. I promise, my next update will be on time.  
**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A Note From the Author:**__** Again, I want to thank everyone who's stuck with this story so far! I really appreciate it. So, here's an extra long update for all of you fantastic readers Reads, reviews, follows, and favorites are welcome, as usual. **_

_**Thanks again, I really can't tell you how much I love reading your reviews. It still awes me how this story seemed to take off so quickly. **_

_Disclaimer: S. E. Hinton owns The Outsiders and all its characters. **  
**_

—

My foot tapped anxiously against the carpeted floor, head tilted down so I was staring into my lap. The throbbing in my nose was beginning to stop, and I could tell the bleeding would stop soon. Not that I cared too much about it. But, I shouldn't have been stupid enough to let that happen in the first place.

"Ponyboy?" A voice punctured the silence in the office. I looked up to receive a look of disapproval from Mrs. White, an older secretary of the high schools. I nodded, not say anything, only crumpling up the bloody tissue in my hand and tossing it away into the wastebasket. She pushed the large rimmed glasses further but the bridge of her nose. "Your brother is here. Principal Miller would like to have a brief conference regarding the... Altercation."

I was hardly able to suppress groan. Being a senior this year, I figured the punishment would be a couple of detentions, maybe even a few Saturdays banging erasers together. I definitely didn't expect them to bother with a conference. Just my luck. When Darry heard about it, he'd skin me alive for sure. Only, when I heard footsteps walking into the little side office I sat in, they weren't heavy like Darry's. Turning my head, the groan I was holding in slipped out a soon as I saw his face.

"Ah, shit." The words slipped out of me so fast, I didn't have the slightest chance to stop them. That, of course, earned me a glare from Mrs. White as she looked up in slight surprise.

"Ah shit is right, Pone." Soda's voice was as serious as his face was. Both sounding as close to stone as they'd ever be. He didn't even look like himself, standing stiffly in the doorway with his hands shoved into his pocket. That was supposed to be Darry's signature stance when any of us got into trouble. It was definitely never Sodapop's. "Someone want to tell me what's going on?"

My eyes dropped to the floor at that question. I was finding his shoes to become very interesting at that point. No, I didn't want to tell him what this was about at all. Suddenly, I was wishing Darry was here. That was a hell of a lot better than Sodapop. I didn't even want to remember the "altercation" that landed me in here.

* * *

_The bell rang. Third period was finished, which only left me with one more to go. Gym was next in line, and I was glad. That was like a warm up for track practice. And with the way I'd been competing lately, I needed all the practice I could get. _

_Usually, when I got into the locker room, I wouldn't pay any attention to anyone in there. I'd just change and be on my way out in a couple of minutes. Sometimes, I'd stick around and make idle small talk with a few guys on the team. That day, however, I entered when the wrong conversation was taking place at the wrong time. _

_It wasn't too crowded in there. Only a few juniors and two freshmen, I was the only senior and unable to recognize anyone by name. The two youngest, a blonde haired boy and a redhead, were in a deep conversation. At first, I didn't pay any attention to what they were saying. Soon enough, little pieces of their conversation drifted my way. _

_"...Burning down towns with innocent women and children. I swear, all those uniformed bastards should burn away in hell." It didn't take much time at all to register what they were talking about. Instantly, I felt my face get hot as I spun around. _

_This was a kind of out of character thing for me to do. After what happened with Johnny and Dal, I mostly kept to myself and don't jump in with my two cents. That may work okay for Two-Bit, but I learned my lesson when it came to opening up your mouth. Before I even had the chance to think, I was already telling the kid off. _

_"Who the hell do you think you are?" Already, my tone was sharp, edged so roughly it gave a small shake. It was as if I was a caged animal trying to keep my cool. They both looked over at me, a little surprised to say the least._

_"Hey, man, you can't seriously be defending these people. They're sick. Murders. Not even close to people, much less a hero." The read head jutted his chin out, eyes traveling over me, no doubt sizing me up. Just the way he stood arrogantly, talking about shit he didn't have the slightest idea of, fueled an anger that was slowly bubbling inside of me. _

_"My brother's one of those 'bastards'." My hands curled their way into fists, by instinct I was cornering the kid against the lockers. He was scared, I could tell. But he sure hid it real well when he flashed me a small smirk. _

_"He's as good as dead to me." He spat, and that was all it took. All of a sudden, I was on top of the kid. I didn't even register that I jumped him until I was being pulled away. By that point, my nose was gushing and my hand had a mixture of his blood and my own. _

_"Glory, Curtis, lay off of him!" The blonde must have slipped out of the locker room at some point. Because next thing I knew, Coach Wheeler was dragging me back by my t-shirt collar while the kid stood by the door with a pale white face. At the time, I was more than satisfied to see that look on his face. _

* * *

Now, Sodapop was getting the hear the entire story from my principal. Sinking down low into the plush chair, I wished I could disappear. Between the grave and disappointed sound of Mr. Miller's voice and Soda's rigidly still posture, I was feeling pretty shitty. Though it was a good solution at the time, I was seeing the other side of things now.

"The boy, Andy, will have to get stitches above his eyebrow and his face is bruised up pretty badly. From what I know, his parents are not pressing any assault charges, and you should be thanking your lucky stars, kiddo." I almost snorted at that, catching myself just in time and turning it into a bleak nod and a mumbled "Yes, sir." I wasn't expecting them to sue anyway. Andy was from our part of town.

"Under the circumstances, Ponyboy does have to receive punishment of some sort." Miller went to speak on like I wasn't even in the room. My brother nodded his head patiently, and I knew he agreed with the man. "Seeing as his record is pretty clear, I can let him off easily. Suspended from the rest of the track season, and after school detention for the rest of the week."

I felt my eyes go wide at the mention of track. The rest of the season? Darry was going to absolutely kill me now. Track was my ticket into college. Now, that was all down the drain because of my temper getting the best of me. But still, I couldn't find myself the least bit sorry for doing that.

"You can't suspends me from the tea–" Soda cut my off with a hand, not even bothering to glance in my direction. His gaze stuck on the principal's face, his head gave a curt nod.

"He'll be in detention, and track is over. Now, if you wouldn't mind, sir, I'd like to take my brother home." With one last reprimand, I was dismissed to go home. Soda led the way out of the office, his lean form held dangerously tight. Rubbing my forehead, I wanted to just get the hell out of there. He was pissed, and the last thing I needed was everyone jumping down my throat.

"Soda, I didn't mean get the kid stitches. I just hated the things he was saying." As soon as we were in the parking lot and out of any stragglers earshot, I tried for an explanation. Maybe I could fix things before they even took a turn for the absolutely worst. Glancing over, the hard expression on Sodas's face told me otherwise. I mentally braced myself, moving my gaze down to the pavement.

"I can't believe you, Ponyboy. Getting into a fight? Honestly, I'm having a hard time grasping the fact that you can be so goddamn thoughtless sometimes." I missed a step, shocked by what Soda had to say about this. He was worse than pissed; so mad about this, he broke his new silent nature. And boy howdy, he wasn't sounding like Sodapop at all.

"Glory, Soda, what do you want me to say? I'm not sorry I beat the shit of the kid, if that's what you want. I told everyone what he was saying. Blast it, I wish I did a lot worse than that!" I found Sodas's face again, defending myself. After all, the reason I snapped was because of the trash they were saying about soldiers. It was for Soda. That didn't make the slightest difference for my brother. Stopping in his tracks, he suddenly spun around and slapped his palm against my chest to pause me.

"Don't you dare say that, Ponyboy Michael." I went to open my mouth and he cut me off sharply. "Shut up for a minute, would you." Soda snapped harshly, catching me off guard. Since when did he get so temperamental? Taking a step back, I jerked slightly to knock his giant away from my chest.

"Why are you so mad at me? They were making you seem like some worthless monster. You didn't do anything to deserve that shit, and I don't want to have to hear it and not do anything." I watched him carefully, hardly able to recognize him. Soda was looking at me -no, more like glaring with a look of sheer frustration. He looked ready to belt me right then and there, and I couldn't understand why.

"But they're right! Don't you see that? That kid, the one you got yourself kicked out of track for, he was right, Pony! I don't ever want you to hit someone because of me again. You don't understand it, Pone. Savvy?" Soda's gave scrunched up, thumb raking at his jaw line roughly. He was trying to control himself, keep from exploding. I could tell.

"What are you talking about?" Dumbfounded, my arms dropped loosely to my sides. I had no idea what he meant. How could he be right? Giving my head a firm shake, I definitely didn't like where this was heading. "Soda, what are you saying?"

He let out a sigh, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Ponyboy, I ain't no hero. I did some sick things out there. Sometimes, I was out there wishing someone would shoot me down." Soda paused, and I stayed silent. This was all news to me, and boy it was hitting me hard. "I am a murder, and sick, and twisted, and anything else anyone has to say about me. I killed people, Pony. I know everyone says it was to survive, but some were just as innocent as you."

"Soda, you didn't want anything to do with the war. You can't let them paint age full imagines of something you were forced into." Even though I knew it was true, I was denying the fact Soda hurt anyone. Much less kill. That just wasn't my brother.

He seemed to have given up at that point. Soda was no longer looking mad. Instead, he was just done. Putting his hand on my shoulder, he guided me towards the car. "Let's just get home. And please not another word, Pony."

—

_**A Note From the Author:**__** Okay, there it is! And it's on time too! Be sure to tell me what you think. Thanks again. **_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A Note From the Author:**__** Hello again! So, here's the update. Sorry I'm posting it a little later than expected. It was meant to be out earlier this afternoon, but Internet connection's been crazy. I just want to say thank you again! feedback is always appreciated. **_

_**Pardon all grammatical and spelling errors. I really did try to catch everything. **_

_Disclaimer: S. E. Hinton owns The Outsiders and all of its characters. _

_—_

If I could skip through explaining what happened to Darry, I would have in a heartbeat. I don't think he's ever been so mad before. Getting into a fight wasn't a big deal to him, having gotten into a couple of his own while in high school. What really did him in was getting suspended from track. Endlessly, I heard about how my future might as well be over. At that point, I was kind of wishing someone would just run me over it was over with. That probably would have beaten getting lectured.

Darry's disappointment, of course, just couldn't be the worst part of the whole ordeal. Soda was still pissed beyond belief. The second he drove us home, he disappeared into our room. He hadn't so much as taken a glance at me. That's what felt the worst. Sodapop never, no matter what I did, treated me like this. I felt like a little kid who just let down their idol.

Thinking about the fight, it seemed to stir up more shit than expected. It took me three steps backwards with Soda, adding a giant riff in our household. He wasn't just mad at me, I don't think. It was more like he was mad at himself. He couldn't change the things he did, and it bothered him that I defended it all.

Even Steve is frustrated. Because he can't find a real reason, he's honestly blaming the fight for what made Soda just shut down completely. Sure, that contributed to it, but it couldn't be my fault completely. So, Steve kept his distance, only after he had a long "talk" with me. Honestly, I just sat there like a dope while he yelled at me for being stupid and reckless.

Two-Bit was the only one who seemed normal. Things have honestly so off that Keith Matthews is the natural one. He at least made a joke out of everything. It was hard not to, especially when you weren't the mad ones. My nose was double its size, bruised and scratched. The perfect butt for any joke. I couldn't complain about Two-Bit's attitude, though. It felt refreshing and way friendlier than anyone else.

Of course, Two-Bit couldn't always be around to make the mood lighter. He still had a life of chasing blonde broads and avoiding jobs. When he wasn't around, things just weren't the brightest of times. Then, we just had to throw some storms into the mix of everything.

When we weren't arguing, our house was usually quieter. It had been days since the incident and getting back on track was looking like a far off dream. So, Darry didn't say one word about college, and I didn't push the subject. Of course, that couldn't keep any of us away from a fight for too long.

Darry managed to drag Soda out of the room for dinner, and I really wish he hadn't now. Both of them were exceptionally grumpy. While I loved them both dearly, the thought of sitting through a meal while they were in moods was very unappealing. But, I sat down, shut up, and kept to myself. Both my brothers seemed to have the same plan, then something just snapped. It was like a rubber band that was finally stretched too far.

"I really can't handle this crap anymore." Darry's voice sounded tough, stressed. His fork clatter down on the plate as he pushed his chair back a bit. Keeping my eyes focused on my plate, I didn't say a word. "Sodapop, you've been home for nearly a month now. One whole month. And I can recall you saying less than one hundred damn words."

Christ, did we have to have this conversation? It was good enough having him home, Darry didn't need to push it. Dropping my own utensils down, I tipped my head back to look up at the ceiling. Why can't we all just drop it?

Since Soda didn't speak up, Darry continued. He was seeming to lose patients he didn't have left to begin with. "I've busted my ass around here, along with everyone else. We want to know if you're okay, Sodapop. Goddamn, we want to know what the hell you're thinking. It's like someone flipped a switch off inside of you."

So, maybe I did agree with what Darry was saying. That sure as hell didn't mean it should be said now. We were all tugging at each other's ropes, and they were reaching their ends. Soda, like the rest of us, had given up the attention on his dinner. Now, his gaze was fixated on Darry. I couldn't reach his expression, his face and eyes completely blank. That was a trait he seemed to pick up overseas, and I hated it so much.

"I'm okay." He murmured after a long pause, looking down at his plate again. That couldn't have been a worse answer. But, I wasn't surprised to hear it. Since coming home, using less than five syllables at a time became a notorious talent of his. This seemed to frustrate Darry further, and all I wanted was to get up and leave the room.

"You're okay." My brother nearly snorted, his gaze hardening. "I'm having a pretty hard time believing that, Sodapop. I know you've been through hell and back, and I know I'll never understand everything they put you through. But blast it, I wish you'd just try to accept our help." This was a whole lot calmer than I expected. Darry was honestly trying to help. He wanted to get through to Soda like all of us. I just knew this approach wasn't going to work.

"Dar, can't we just eat..." I murmured, hand rubbing at the back of my neck. I really didn't need to watch us all get one step closer to ripping each other's throats out. Darry just ignored me, though.

"What do you want me to say, Darry? Should I lie and tell you that there isn't anything wrong? That, come tomorrow, I'll wake up and forget everything? I can't. I can't lie to you, and I just can't talk about it." Soda started off sounding mean, ice-cold. But, by the time he was finished, it was like he was begging Darry to drop the matter.

"I want _you _to want to get better. You're the only person who doesn't." Darry kept his voice even, and I was glad. This was actually stuff Soda needed to hear, and maybe Darry was beginning to realize the right way to show him.

"Maybe that's because I don't deserve to get better. Maybe that's why I _can't _forget. Dammit, I've tried." Darry looked over at Soda, expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. I didn't mention him saying anything like that when I got in trouble that day, and I guess Soda didn't either. Standing up slowly, Darry's face turned very serious. He faced Sodapop completely, crossing his arms loosely over his chest.

"Sodapop Patrick, I want you to listen to me." I saw his jaw jump, struggling to keep composure. Listening to anyone talk like that is hard, but that was our own brother. At this point, I think each of them forgot I was still in the room. "You do not deserve anything that you went through, okay? I wouldn't wish that on anyone. We're all going to help you get better. And we're really trying. Things ain't going to be perfect, little buddy. Bit it'll sure go a lot smoother if you let us help."

Soda didn't speak and didn't move an inch. His gaze had dripped down to the table, and he seemed to be absorbing all that Darry was saying. After a minute, he pushed the chair out and stood up. Without so much as a second glance, he brushed passed me on the way to go back to his room. I exhaled and Darry sighed.

* * *

An uneventful week blew by after the discussion Darry had with Soda. I really think it did help. Maybe only in the smallest of ways, but that was enough for me. Anything counted, and I just kept that in mind. I don't think a conversation ever left me that worn out anyway, so I was really hoping it paid off.

Since then, Soda was a little more active. He talked a little more, sometimes went out to the DX, and just started trying a bit. I'm positive everyone noticed the change, but no one talked about it. It was like we were afraid to jinx it. The only the only thing none of us could fix were the nightmares. They kept occurring, and I had a feeling they would for a long, long time.

Anyway, things were looking pretty alright. Darry was even working to get me back on the team. He swears he can do it, and I'm not in any place to argue. Maybe things were getting back on the track to being right again. Well, as close to right as we could all be.

Unfortunately, good times never seem to last. A few days into his third week home, Felicia stopped by. Lately, they only talked on the phone. Even then, conversations only lasted fifteen or twenty minutes. So, when she knocked at our door before entering, I knew something was up.

She came in with a very straight face, asking for Soda right away. Lucky for me, he was sitting in the living room and came right to the door. At that point, I excused myself to the kitchen. I was doing homework in there before she showed up. From my spot, I could hear the conversation, whether I wanted to or not.

"Sodapop, I think we need to talk." Felicia's soft voice floated around in the air, and I could imagine her laying a hand on my brother's shoulder. I heard some shuffling around, figuring they went to sit on the couch.

"Sorry I haven't stopped by lately." Soda apologized, there voices were closer to the kitchen now. "Things have been pretty messed up. I just–" He stopped there, really not having a need for further explanation.

"It's alright, I understand. But, Soda, I came to talk about us." Felicia kept her voice in that odd, light tone. It was like she was talking to a child. "I mean, when you left, I was still a senior in high school. For two years, honey, I was loyal to you. We wrote each other and everything." She paused a moment, sniffling slightly.

"Fel, I know things were hard for you too." Soda voice was now low like hers. I could picture how his face was beginning to edge into a concerned look. He knew where this was going.

"No, that's not when things turned. It's now that you're home! I can't talk to you without feeling icy. You're not the Sodapop Curtis I fell in love with. I'm not having fun, when I should be. I'm nineteen, Soda." Her voice rose up an octave, sounding almost urgent.

"I can't do this anymore. I love you, I do. But, I can't." By this point, I knew Felicia must be crying. Her tone was thick with emotion and I heard the light clatter of something. "Here. I'm sorry." She chocked out.

"My ring." It wasn't a question. Soda sounded blank and quiet. There was more rustling around, them standing up maybe. Felicia kept apologizing over and over. Glory, I wanted to move from my spot, but to get to my room, I'd have to go through the living room. So, I stayed still as stone.

"No, it's okay. I understand, Felicia. I haven't been fair to you. And I don't deserve all the patients you've given me." Finding his voice, I could tell Soda wrapped his head around it all. "I'm the one who's sorry." They hugged, and I heard Soda kiss her lightly.

"Goodbye, Sodapop." Felicia whispered, the sound of her voice barely audible.

"Goodbye, Felicia." I heard Soda say. Next thing I heard was the screen door opening and closing, followed by a long sigh. After a moment, Soda came into the kitchen. just the ring finger of his right hand was the ring.

"I really did not want that to happen." He said quietly, examining the finger. After a second, Soda looked up at me. "I've got to stop pushing people away, Pone. Glory, I really have to." I swallowed, unsure of what to say. Though it felt horrible to even think, I was kind of glad for this break up. It was a wake up call for Soda, and finally he heard it.

—

_**A Note From the Author: So, tell me what you think! Again, thanks everyone for all that you do for this story. You have no idea how much this all means. **_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A Note From the Author:**__** Hey, everyone, sorry I'm late! Everything just got extremely busy and overwhelming! I finally got some downtime over Memorial Weekend to spend with my family. Anyway, I am back and terribly sorry to keep you waiting! This chapter aid a bit of a fluffer, I warn you now. Enjoy!**_

_Disclaimer: S. E Hinton will forever be the owner of The Outsiders._

_—_

"Mail call, Curtis'!" Two-Bit sauntered into our home, bellowing out the message. It made Soda, who sat on the couch watching some mind numbing cartoon, jump a bit and wince. Two murmured his apology and gave a sheepishly grin. The entrance made my stomach flip, reminding me of the day Soda got his draft letter all too much.

"What've you got?" Asking anyways, I stood up and grabbed the small stack from him. As May rolled around, I was looking to hear from some colleges. Darry made the arrangement with the coach, and a "good word" was going to be put in for me. And maybe, just maybe, I could run the last race of the season. I guess that was better than nothing.

Looking through the stack, I wasn't surprised to find a fair share of bills. Setting those aside on the coffee table, I could see Soda take a sideways glanced at them from the corner of my eye. Turning up blank on any mail for myself, I lost interest pretty quickly. That was until an envelope caught my eye.

It was an off white kind of color, standing out from the formal postage ones from the billing companies. I flipped the letter over in my hand, reading the messy hand writing.

_Sodapop P. Curtis._

"Pone, what do you got there?" Soda piped up, head swiveling in my direction. As usual, his tough gaze met mine. He was searching for answers written on my face, and I wasn't surprised when he stiffened. I'm sure I looked a little nervous. "Well?"

"Is that from one of those schools? I hope it's the Cali university. The number of blondes in that place!" Two-Bit grinned crookedly, rubbing a thumb down one of his rusty-red sideburns as he eyed the letter.

I shifted, giving my head a shake. "It ain't from a school. It's for you, Soda." His expression relaxed a little. Maybe he thought it was a notice for me, or Darry. Whatever he had in mind, he was just relieved that it wasn't. Sitting up a bit straighter, he reached out his hand.

"Let's see it." He murmured, grasping it once I handed it over. Soda's dark eyes studied the envelope, twisting it all around. "City Hall." He almost laughed, tearing the seal. "This oughta be good."

Two-Bit and I exchanged puzzled glances. It was clear that neither of us knew what this could be about. Soda's relaxed and almost bored fashion had me filled with anxiety. Though the situation wasn't exact, this felt like two years ago all over again. I just didn't want anymore bad news. Weren't we all out of poor luck yet?

"Dear Mr. Curtis," Soda began, a hand absent-mindedly scratching the back of his head, "We, at Tulsa City Hall, are proud to invite you to take part in the city's first ever Decoration Day, on May 22." He stopped reading aloud, holding the letter stiffly in his hand. I watched silently as his eyes flicked over the paper.

Decoration Day was a catching holiday. It wasn't anything official, but word of celebrating the ones who swerved our country was spreading fast. The holiday idea was nothing more than paying our respects. I guess Tulsa decided this was a perfect year to jump on board the bandwagon.

Soda folded the letter back up, tossing it down on the coffee table. His face was blank, avoiding expression. Unreadable. After a moment, Two-Bit shifted and pulled at the collar of his shirt.

"You planning on goin', hotshot?" He asked, usually goofy grin in place. I could tell that he was slightest bit hesitate to ask. The subject of anything war related was never brought up on purpose. And when it was, everyone treaded carefully. Soda seemed to weigh in his mind what his answer would be.

"I don't know yet." Answering quite vaguely, I could tell he was really thinking about it. In all honesty, I was surprised he didn't tear the letter to shreds yet. Being a solider wasn't anything Soda was proud of, and I didn't think he'd be into attending a ceremony in his honor. But, maybe things were changing around here. I was eager to figure out what as on his mind.

"I think it sounds kind of cool." Quietly putting out my opinion, I watched Soda. His eyes swept over the floor, slowly making their way up to me. He understood my motives perfectly. "I mean, grandpa was in a war too. Might as well pay everyone some respect..." Adding that in, i dropped my vision down to my lap. The way Soda was watching, so knowingly, I couldn't meet I his gaze.

"It's downtown. Right at city hall. We'll have to see if Dar has the afternoon off, Ponyboy. And it's so last-minute; only a few weeks away."

"Yeah, I guess we'll just have to see."

* * *

The twenty-second approached rapidly. I think it came on way quicker than Sodapop wanted it to. I could see him tense up when anyone mentioned it. When Soda read the letter to Darry, well, he thought it was a pretty damn good idea. He said it was the right think to do, and wouldn't look to good on Soda's behalf if we skipped it.

So, Soda was standing in front of the cracked, old mirror in our bathroom. There was an hour until we had to be there. The old military uniform, the one I haven't laid eyes on since the day Soda came home, was laying atop of our mattress. He was avoiding our room, trying to delay it as long as possible. Finally, when Darry gave his final warning, Soda caved.

I was buttoning up my shirt when he walked in. Darry was making everyone dress up. Even Steve and Two-Bit. When Soda let the door shut behind him, he didn't move from the doorway for a while. His eyes were just glued on that stupid uniform. Clearing my throat, I watched as he flinched slightly.

"It ain't so bad, Soda. Just for a couple of hours." Mumbling, I did my best to give some reassurance. The thing was, no one could really understand or relate. Hell, I didn't really even want Soda back in the uniform. It was all seem way too real again. Now, it wasn't just some nightmare he woke up to screaming. The uniform was real, and so were the memories it held. There just wasn't too much to tell him.

"Yeah, I know." Speaking quietly, Sodapop rounded the corner of the bed, his index finger brushing over the crisp fabric. "It's just been a while." He excused in a distracted voice. "Tell Dar I'll be ready in five minutes." Darry was growing increasingly inpatient. He didn't want to be late and was aggravated that we were "taking our sweet time." Since Soda started getting a little better, Darry was slowly treating him less like a loaded gun and more like a little brother.

"Yeah. I'll tell him." Tone light, I offered Soda a tight grin before slipping outside the bedroom. He needed a minute, and we'd just have to give him all the time in the world. But, of course, Sodapop was emerging from the room after five minutes, just like he said. Two-Bit, who was perched on the couch's arm, whistled lowly.

"Lookin' good, Mr. Cordially Invited." He commented, receiving a quick nod from Soda. Steve gave a small chuckle, just coming from the kitchen with a bottle of beer in his hands. Darry gave a disapproving look and shook his head tiredly.

"I swear, you're like herding a bunch of cats. Everyone ready?" There were a few mutters confirming our readiness as each one of us stood up to leave. And since we were all dressed so nicely for the occasion, ratty sneakers were out of the question.

Darry had nothing more to complain about as we all filed outside. Everyone followed his directions, trying to avoid being scolded for the rest of the evening. Though everyone was grown up now, nothing really changed too much. Most things were almost the same thing, excluding the new habits Soda's homecoming brought forth.

The drive there was short and quiet. Soda was so tense, I was almost positive he would burst. He, Darry, and Steve sat up front in the old truck, Two-Bit and I in the back. Arriving at City Hall in a decent amount of time, I knew Darry was glad made it.

"The letter says to stop by a check in desk, Soda." Steve said, unfolding the letter that was one tucked away in his pocket. He read it over again. "Just to sign in or something like that?" Giving it his best guess, he shrugged and clasped my brother gently on the back.

"Okay, we'll meet you outback then." Darry suggested, pointing his index finger out towards small window on the other side of the room. There was a short line there, stocky men in uniforms waiting very patiently. I saw Soda suck in a breath and nod stiffly.

"Yeah, okay." He murmured, leaving us for the line. Only a few moments later, Darry ushered us all in the direction to find our seats.

When we stepped outside, I was honestly surprised with the size of the crowd. A lot of people were milling around. Some sat at the large amount of lawn chairs set up, all facing a gazebo type structure with a podium, others chatted quietly. Darry patted my arm before whisking us all towards a row of empty seats.

"Christ, I hope Sodapop manages okay." Steve muttered softly, taking a seat to the right of me. Two-Bit and I both nodded softly. This was a pretty big crowd, and he wasn't too keen on close quarters again, yet.

"Yeah, me too."

Not too long after I got the words out, a squat man waddled across the stage. He cleared his throat, hands reaching out to the old microphone in front of him. Being rather short, we could barely see him over the podium.

"Excuse me, Ladies and Gentlemen. If all could take a seat, we'd like to begin the Decoration Day ceremony." He paused, waiting until everyone was seated before speaking once more. "Today we'd like to take the time to celebrate all who have previously served the country, or are now doing so."

"It take a special kind of brave to do this, and each and every citizen should be thankful for their actions. Please, Ladies and Gentlemen, give a warm hand to a few of Tulsa's finest men."

As the man stepped back, applause started throughout the audience. We all watched as men wearing military uniforms stepped out on the gazebo. Each of them bore no expression, standing stone still as they lined up next to one another. Sodapop was among the first few to be in the line up. He fit it perfectly. That was a little nerve wrecking.

The ceremony really began after that point. Several people made speeches, including the mayor and very old war veterans. A few years back, I wouldn't have thought twice about anything they were saying. Soldiers and war would mean nothing to me. We all had plenty of other troubles to worry about. Things were sure different now.

Finally, after nearly two hours, Tulsa's first Decoration Day came to an end. The man from earlier made another appearance, this time closing things up. He thanked everyone for coming out, dismissed the soldiers and left. Soon after, the crowd began to follow in suit.

Once we were back inside the building, it wasn't too hard to spot Soda. He was still with all the other service men, being badgered from some woman with a local newspaper badge. Grinning wryly, I headed off over in his direction. Soda was trying his best to stay poised and polite, I could see that as I elbowed through the crowd. I finally reached him just as she was casting him what sounded like the last question.

"So, Mr. Curtis, what does it feel like to be a hero?" She questioned, snapping gum in her mouth as she raised her pen up to write. Soda's ghostly smile crossed his face, looking up just in time to catch my eye.

"Sorry Ma'am," he began easily, giving his head a shake, "but I ain't no hero." The answer didn't surprise me in the least. Soda was always saying things like that. I watched as he side-stepped the woman, scratching the back of his neck. "Now you'll have to excuse me, Miss. I'd like to go home to spend Tulsa's first Decoration Day with my family."

I couldn't help but to chuckle at that point, rolling my eyes. The old Soda was finally coming out to play. At least for a moment.

—

**_A Note From the Author: Okay, so I've had this idea for quite a while now, and finally decided to type it up. It just so happened to fall around Memorial Day Weekend. Anyway, I hope you didn't mind its fluffiness too much. Thanks again! _**


	8. Chapter 8

_**A Note From the Author:**__** Hey! I just wanted to say thanks to every, again! I hope you enjoy the update, and Happy Summer to those of you who have it off right now! Thanks again for everything. **_

_Disclaimer: S. E. Hinton owns The Outsiders. _

—

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up." Two-Bit, wedged right in the middle of the truck's front seat, peered over at Soda, who was sitting beside him. Squinting his eyes, I watched quietly as Two-Bit poked a finger out towards Soda slowly. I couldn't help but snicker as he mentally debated prodding at my brother. Steve, sitting impatiently in the back seat, rolled his eyes.

"Let me do it." He grumbled, scooting up on the seat so he could reach up front. "Sodapop, get up. We're home." Steve spoke pretty softly, making it Two-Bit's and my turn to roll our eyes. Placing a hand on Soda's shoulder, he gave him a gently shake. Without skipping a moment, I watched as my exhausted brother jolted up quickly.

He blinked a few times, then realizing he wasn't in danger, relaxed. "Christ, Steve," he mumbled, rubbing the sleep that collected in the corner of his eyes, "you scared the shit out of me."

"You fell asleep again, Soda." I finally spoke up, voice quiet. Everyone shuffled slightly and I could feel my brother's eyes on my. But, just couldn't help it. Socially, Soda was getting better. A lot better. There were still bumps, but nothing compared to his ongoing subconscious issues.

Things were really working their way up. Soda went out more, when he could, picked up a part-time (strictly in the garage, away from crowds, and very lenient hour) shift at the DX, and he was just starting to closely resemble the Sodapop Curtis we miss very much. The thing was, his nightmares were taking a deep toll on him.

Without a fail, since the day he came home, he wakes up disoriented. As he began to become more out going again, the night terrors started to impact his energy and mood. Soda was always tired. I overheard him telling Steve that he gets four hours of sleep at night; tops. We can't take a trip anywhere with Soda without him dozing off slightly. No matter what we do, he's just too exhausted to stay awake for more that three consecutive hours. And the nightmares still found their way into these desperate, little naps.

Silently, we all slipped out of the truck. Steve pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and Two-Bit stole one. They made themselves comfy on the porch, Steve quietly eyes me and my brother. Soda went inside while trailed behind him.

"You said I could tell Darry if it got worse, Soda. And today it did. You fell asleep five times, and we were out for only a few hours." I reached out and grabbed his shoulder, feeling his tense underneath my grip. He spun around, looking completely worn out with a hint frustrated.

"I don't care, Pone. I'm fine." Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he gave his head a shake. "You know what Darry's gonna say, and I ain't going to some quack. Want to take a guess at what they're going to say, Ponyboy? I'm pretty sure I know." The pleasant perk of him being so tired all the time was his new temper. Steve was probably the only one who found it slightly enjoyable, and that was just because it made him look sweet.

"You can't just do this forever." I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to not roll my eyes. "'Sides, you're not the only one losing sleeping." Mumbling this, I watched as he rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"You've always got my old room, Pony."

"That wouldn't change anything." I was draining the last ounce of effort from Sodapop, and I couldn't care. There wasn't a way he could actually _live_ like this for long. Soon, he'd never have any energy to do anything, and he refused to let anyone help.

"You're not telling Darry. This isn't cute, Ponyboy. We're not kids anymore and I don't need you tryin' to go around and fix me." He finally spat out, leaning against the wall for support. His words were harsh, especially for Soda to say that to me, and stung. Shaking my head, I watched him unwaveringly.

"You don't listen to me, I'm just the kid brother. But, you listen to Darry. I've got no choice." I kept my voice softer, not wanting this to turn into a huge blowout. Soda could be frustrated at me, as long as he was safe. This sleeping thing got to the point where Darry didn't let Sodapop drive anymore; too worried he'd fall asleep behind wheel. If that wasn't over the edge, I didn't know what was.

At that moment, I was glad Steve Randle decided to come back inside. He looked between the two of us, dark eyes soaking up the scene. "Soda, go take a nap. You're practically sleep-walking." he instructed, eyes finally landing on me. He probably wanted to lecture me about pestering Soda or something. Whatever it was, I figured it was a conversation I didn't want to have.

"I'm okay, Steve." I heard my brother's voice snap back, but it wasn't really him. He wasn't actually fine, he was exhausted, shaken, and grouchy. None of that was anything Soda actually was. Being fine was miles and miles away, but way closer than it used to be. He was better, just not fine. But with the more sleep he loses, the farther cheery Sodapop was.

"I ain't arguing with you, and I ain't picking your ass up off the floor when you pass out." Steve was way too stubborn to just let Soda be miserable. He was probably the one person who never treated Sodapop any different from the day he left. "you've got a shift in three hours, and no one needs you sleeping there either."

I watched as Soda huffed, shuffling his feet. He finally peeled himself off the wall and made it into our bed room. Steve just watched him the entire time, expression unreadable. His face was void of anything and his gaze didn't avert until the door clicked shut. In a lethargic movement that almost matched Soda, Steve looked over at me.

"I bet he's already passed out." Walking past me, Steve went into the kitchen. He reappeared a moment later, beer bottle in hand. Popping the cap off, he took a refreshing swig before speaking. "This is getting nuts, kid. It was almost better when he didn't leave the house."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Maybe Steve didn't want to yell at me. Maybe he was agreeing. "He doesn't want any help." I laced my fingers together, placing them around the back of my head. For more than a week, I'd like to really believe that everyone was one hundred percent. Graduation was coming up, and I couldn't leave this place in turmoil.

"Well, he can get over that bullshit now. I ain't going anywhere, and this is going to stop. Tomorrow, I'm taking him into that doctor. The one who you talked to. Got his number?" I understood Steve's motives perfectly, but I could see this going wrong in so many ways. Tricking Soda was risky, would definitely make him mad, and that doctor was an absolute quack.

Smearing my face into my hands, I gave my head a tired shake. "Let me go with you. I can cut third period tomorrow. 'Sides, this is a stupid idea already." I was feeling pretty winded at this point. Soda wasn't the only exhausted one around here. He was just the domino effect.

"Darry'll skin me alive if he finds out, kid." Steve was mentally debating it, not doubt. Since there was less than a month of school left, Dar's been nonstop on my case. Every last-minute detail needs to be perfect in his book. "Just... Just don't go broadcasting your own personal Senior Skip Day." With a sigh, Steve gave in. I met his uneasiness with a grin, holding back a chuckle.

"I'll make sure to make a poster." I quipped, arms crossing loosely over my chest. Steve's usual scowl washed over his features.

"Shut up, Smart-ass."

* * *

It's a wonder Steve and I managed to get Soda this far. He was miserable and pissed, but sitting in the waiting room. Steve was right beside him, and it was my job to get him all sighed in. Putting my signature down on the clipboard, I could feel the receptionists eyes on me. It had to look strange, though. Steve and I literally pulled Soda in the room.

Giving her the clipboard, I muttered my thanks and strolled back to where Steve and Soda sat. My brother was sitting pin straight, jaw clenched tightly. If I didn't know better, I'd say he looked mean. But I knew Soda. He was a lot of things, and mean never was, and never will be, one of them.

"They said the doc'll be out in a bit." I muttered, taking a seat right beside Soda. Steve and I had him sandwiched between the two of us, much to his dismay. "I'm sorry, Soda..." Mumbling that for the umpteenth time, I gave him a sheepish smile. He, like all the other times, didn't even blink.

Steve rolled his eyes and gave me a nudge. "You're fine, kid. He'll live through it." Speaking bolding, I was half expecting Soda to just belt Steve. Instead of pushing anything further, I opted for silence. Instead, I just looked around the familiar hospital.

It hardly felt like any time passed at all. I've been in this place way too many times. This time, I thought all the way back to a couple of months after my parents death. Darry and I sat here for ages before I was called back. The appointment lasted less than a half hour, and all he told me was to play football before bed.

We all sat for a while, Steve absent-mindedly flipped through some medical magazine, Soda sulked, and I zoned in and out. Finally a middle-aged woman, clearly a nurse, stepped over towards us with a clipboard. Clearing her throat quietly, she flashed a small smile.

"Do we have a Mr. Sodapop Curtis over here?" She asked in a sugar sweet drawl. The way she held herself reminded me of our grandmother, but she was too young for that. Soda snapped out of his mood, nodding his head and getting up to his feet. Still, his face was cool and emotionless.

"Yes, Ma'am." He replied curtly, giving her a small nod. The woman's smile slipped slightly, eyes scanning over my brother. What was that expression; intimidation, maybe? Smoothing out her uniform, she seemed to look over her charts again.

"Alright. Dr. Garrison is all set to see y'all. Just follow me back there and we'll get you all good and ready." Again, she seemed sugary, face lit up with another smile. Patting my brother's shoulder, she began to walk towards the swinging doors. Looking over her shoulders, her eyes flit over Steve and I. "You boys are welcome to come on with him." Exchanging amused looks, we got up and followed along.

Nurse Sunshine lead the three of us down the corridor. The hospital walls were an off white, problem once pristine, and the area held that sterile scent. Looking over at Soda, I could tell he was still mad at us. It wasn't like I could blame him. His best friend and little brother (and the other brother with knowledge of it) snuck behind his back and dragged him to the doctor he said specifically he didn't want to see. I was just hoping he'd cooperate. For the sake of us all, I was really hoping.

We stepped into the small office, Nurse Sunshine bidding her goodbyes as she cleft the clipboard with the doctor. From my spot, I could make out my handwriting on there and knew it was what I filled out at the front desk. Dr. Garrison, an older and lean gentleman, hardly looked over the paper before looking at Soda.

"Well, lad, go and hop up on the table." He instructed, finger pointing to the padded cabinets that had a single sheet of thin paper on it. Sodapop followed the directions, tipping his head against the wall.

"I hear we're having a little trouble sleeping, are we? Please explain to me, Mr. Curtis." Nothing was a question with Dr. Garrison. It was the same way when I was here. He just told you to say something, and you could hardly object.

"I can't sleep, Sir." Sodapop put it very plainly, causing Steve to roll his eyes. The doctor didn't even blink the slightest bit, only studied my brother.

"Elaborate."

"I have these nightmares. They wake me up after, two or four hours of sleep. I've had 'em since I got back from Vietnam. Guess they got to the point where my family had to drag me here." Soda said everything the man asked for, and probably a little more. I was honestly surprised. But, maybe he was just looking for a quick way out of here. It seemed Dr. Garrison was in no rush at all.

Looking over the clipboard once more, he nodded his head slowly. "Mhm, okay. Well, I cannot say that this is an uncommon thing. Especially with soldiers. Unfortunately, as I told your brother a few years ago, there isn't much I can do for nightmares." I resisted the urge to wince, able to predict what was coming next.

"Just keep yourself active. The more exhausted you become, the less likely your mind is to wander. You can get Diphenhydramine other the counter at any drug store. Other than that, there isn't much to do for you, Sonny." I watched as Soda took in the news. His face was flawless of any emotion. He didn't even twitch in the slightest. Steve, however, looked like he was seeing red.

"That's it?" He interjected, unable to keep his mouth closed anymore. "You can't give him anything besides some stupid over the counter thing? He _can't _sleep because of these damn nightmares. Ninety percent of the time he _is _exhausted."

"Have you ever considered seeing a counselor, Mr. Curtis." Dr. Garrison offered up, his eyes grazing Steve, then my brother. "What you went through overseas can leave lasting damage on you, psychology and physically."

Soda squeezed his eyes shut right, slipping off of the countertop. "Thanks, Doc, really. I'll go stop by the drug store." Turning swiftly, and before he could say anything else, he exited the room. Steve followed behind him shortly, probably making sure he didn't take off. That left me to awkwardly thank Dr. Garrison and grab the bill. As soon as I pocketed it, I hightailed my butt pout of there. When I ran up to Steve and Soda, they were already in a heated conversation.

"I ain't talking to anymore doctors, Steve! I ain't talking to anyone! They want to hear me talk about _everything! _I can't. I really can't, so don't bother asking."

When Steve spoke, his voice was quieter and full of remorse. "Yeah, I know, Soda. I'm not going to ask. Just... I'm sorry. That guy really is a quack. I just thought he could help." Soda rubbed his forehead, sighing.

"Let's just go home." No one argued with him.


	9. Author's Note

**Please Note: This is Not a Chapter Update.**

Hey everyone. So, I guess an update is really past due, huh? I disappeared for a while because I felt like I was in a really bad place. Writing is a hobby of mine that I love, and it should be fun. For a bit, it wasn't. I've had some personal issues going on outside of writing. Because of some added tension everything about writing and updating the story was getting really stressful and causing all sorts of anxiety.

I took a mental health break for a bit, just to get some time for myself. I know this isn't much of an excuse for abandoning the story, but I needed to do it for me. Things were getting pretty bad, and summer break let me take a little breather. Everything's finally falling back into place now, and I've got the itch to write again.

Now that I have my excuses out of the way, I have an announcement about "Home Coming". I will not be continuing it. Rereading the work I did before my break, I'm having a little trouble with it. I can't find whatever direction (if there ever was one) I was headed in before. It seems like there's nowhere else to go; everything feels stuck. And, now that I'm back to writing, I want to do something I know I'll have fun with.

In a week or so, I'm going to take down "Home Coming". I've been working on another story with the same sort of concept. It's another story about the aftermath of Sodapop being drafted, but I feel like, so far at least, I can keep up with this story.

Again, sorry about the wait. I should have posted a notice like this a lot sooner. Be looking out for my new story; right now it's called "A Year in Time". I'm hoping to have it up in just a few days. And, for anyone who may have seen my another story, I'm currently redoing the first chapter and will just restart "Trouble Knocking."

Thank you for keeping up with this story. All the reads and reviews mean a lot to me. I just felt the need to explain myself and apologize to anyone who might be curious as to what happened to the story.

And, I'm sorry if this post doesn't make a whole ton of sense! I typed it up very quickly, and just really wanted to post it.

-SuaveSwayze


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